Two Geezers
by Lady Emzebel
Summary: Drastic circumstances cause a chance meeting between the parents of two of the Strawhat pirates. All we want to know is if they'll hook up...or kill each other first. Oneshot, slight crack. Enjoy, my lovelies.


Title: Two Geezers

Rating: T for language and innuendo.

Pairing: Zeff/Dr. Kureha (Hey, I can dream okay) and slight mentions of ZoSan but feel free to ignore them...if you can.

Time Frame: Anytime post-Water 7/Enies Lobby arc.

Warning: Old people being naughty, slight crack, bit of OOC. I think that's about it.

Disclaimer: No, One Piece is not mine. *sob*Aiyla and Gumpin and his mother, however, are of my creation...and Reed. Teeheehee, mustn't forget Reed.

Oh yeah, I went there.

-----X3-----

Dr. Kureha sighed deeply as she took a long swallow of plum sake straight from the fancy bottle.

_Well, there's no denying it's good. _She thought._ But I should really ask for diamonds in my glass if I'm expected to pay this much for decent booze. Talk about expensive taste._

She sighed again as she put the bottle down on the spotless tablecloth, wondering where that damn waiter had gone—more plum sake was needed—and cursing her bad luck for good measure.

Flashback:

_Dr. Kureha smiled in satisfaction at a job well done. Three broken bones, two fevers, and no small number of colds she had remedied today, all to be rewarded by various payments. _

_Since the twenty doctors had returned to Drum Kingdom, Kureha had been forced to lower her somewhat extortionate demands—which had not made her happy—but she felt good in the knowledge that her treatment was still the best._

_Some way away from the Bighorn town square, she was in the process of loading her sleigh—now drawn by a large pair of snow cats—to take back to the castle, when she heard a shrill cry. _

"_Doctorine!"_

_Kureha turned to see one of the village children running full tilt towards her. She watched her trip and fall heavily onto the wind-hardened snow with a twinge of concern. The girl got up again quickly though, seemingly unhindered by the lack of wind in her lungs, and kept running until she skidded to a halt before the doctor, bent over at the waist and panting._

"_Yes, what is it brat?"_

"_It's...it's Dalton-sama! He's sick!"_

"_Sick? With what?"_

"_We don't know. It's unlike anything we've ever seen." Something ugly coiled in the pit of Kureha's belly but she masked the fear with a snort of derision._

"_Che, that's not saying much, village idiots that you are. But very well, take me to him." _

_Undaunted, and still too young to fear a woman too much like her own granny, the little girl took the old woman's hand and led her back to the town square and the house that Dalton occupied._

Baka's been appointed the leader of the whole damn country and he still insists on living like a peasant.

_Though Kureha would never admit it, there was some grudging admiration in this observation. _

_Upon entering the small dwelling, the doctor grimaced at the sour reek of sickness. Three of the twenty doctors already stood around the bed (the other seventeen no doubt dismissed by Dalton himself to care for the other citizens) along with various other friends and well wishers._

"_How long has he been like this?"_

"_Just this morning. He suddenly collapsed on our way back from a fishing expedition."_

_Kureha nodded and then shooed all but the little girl who fetched her and the man, a fisherman, who answered her question outside as she began her examination. At some point during this time, Dalton opened his eyes, bloodshot and yellowed with rheumy pus._

"_K...kureha?" His voice was naught but a rasp. The doctor hushed him, her voice harsh with worry but hastily disguised as impatience. Dalton smiled weakly and shut his eyes again. The little girl reached out and took his hand, twining her tiny fingers around his first three digits._

_Kureha was about to chastise her—what if he was contagious?—when she noticed a bandage on the back of his hand. It was not a wound she had treated._

_Pointing to it she asked the fisherman:_

"_What's that?"_

_The man started in shock._

"_I...I...well it's a bite. This thing bit Dalton when he was pulling it out of the net this morning..."_

"_Shift your hand girl." The little girl did as Kureha ordered, and the doctor set to unwrapping the bandage. When she finished and caught sight of the wound she hissed through her teeth in horror._

_The little girl's face turned a light shade of green and she averted her eyes lest she could not prevent herself from vomiting._

"_We were going to treat him," stammered the fisherman, "...but he waved us off...said he was fine. Damn thing bit straight through his glove..."_

"_What bit him, baka!? What!?"_

_The man looked down in shame._

"_I don't know. I didn't get a good look."_

"_I did." Kureha glanced at the little girl. She was looking down at Dalton's pale, sweating face with quiet terror shining in her eyes. _

"_It looked like one of those monsters you hear about in stories...the monsters that look to be made out of harmless jelly but around them float deadly stingers that ensnare you and kill you with a single touch."_

_She shivered._

"_It looked like that, only it was really small—the size of my palm—and it was a greyish green colour. Dalton-sama said it was dead and went to toss it in the refuse fire but as he did it latched on with a hidden mouth. Dalton-sama was startled but he yanked it away and threw it in the fire. He said it was a reflex bite."_

_Tears filled the little girl's eyes, and the fisherman put a comforting arm around her shoulders._

"_He passed out about an hour later. When he started showing symptoms we called the doctors, then he got worse and we sent Aiyla to fetch you."_

"_And you didn't think to make a connection?" Kureha asked the man dryly. He flushed and looked down again in shame. Kureha sighed._

Village idiots.

"_Girl, go back to my sleigh and fetch from my bag the book with the red binding." Aiyla sniffed and nodded, then left to do as she was bid._

_Kureha examined the wound again in distaste, muttering to herself under the breath._

"_The bite itself doesn't look to be poisonous...if it was he'd probably be dead by now...then again this man did take three arrows to the chest and then survived being buried under an avalanche...his fever and eyes indicate an infection of some kind..."_

_Aiyla returned holding the book—_One Thousand and One Animal Inflicted Injuries_— cradling it like it was the most precious of treasure, and handed it to Kureha. She flipped through it, wondering where she'd heard of such symptoms before._

Come on old girl, you're supposed to have these memorized. Jellyfish...jellyfish...

_She froze as her questing fingers found the page she sought. Fighting the urge to shake, her pointer finger followed the graceful lines of text next to a garish illustration of something perfectly nightmarish._

_The Komodo Jellyfish._

_A single bite from its razor sharp teeth was all that was needed to kill prey many times its size. The Komodo Jellyfish's mouth was so diseased that it only took days, sometimes even hours to die of a raging infection. The size of the jellyfish determined how quickly the infection would spread. Even small Seakings were said to have succumbed to the deadly bite of those the size of the average six year old child. Luckily, the species was very rare and existed in only a very small area of the East Blue._

Damn thing probably got caught in a current and was washed all the way here...what rotten luck.

_Reading the final passage—more informative drivel—Kureha turned the page to look for the antidote...and found an entry for Konammerhangers (very shy, but capable of a mean kick when threatened)._

_Kureha's heart seemed to stop._

No...

"_How long's he got, doctorine?" Kureha stared at Aiyla, watching her with solemn child eyes._

Damn brats, I hate that they're so perceptive. Wait, aren't they supposed to have unerring faith in the survival of their idols? Apparently not this one; she's got more sense_._

_However, the statement aroused a strange new determination in the doctor. Dalton had thought to be lost before and she'd always brought him back from the brink of death. Hell would freeze over before she failed to now, she decided. _

What's more; if he dies, so does this country...again.

_Kureha rose to her feet to loom in an intimidating fashion above the girl and fisherman._

"_Hold your tongue brat. He's not going to die." Eyes shone with new hope._

"_He's not?"_

"_No, baka, he's not."_

"_Then you have a cure?" Kureha smacked the fisherman round the back of the head._

"_Do I _look_ like a miracle worker to you? No, not yet I don't but I will." She headed towards the door._

"_Get me a boat and a log pose. I'm going to East Blue."_

_What had followed was a wearying, but thankfully short, journey to a tiny spring island not far from Drum Kingdom. _

_Once there, Kureha had contacted the marines and managed to connive her way onto a marine ship heading across the calm belt. _

_After that they had docked at a small coastal town in the shadow of the Redline and Kureha had braved the sheer cliff wall in a rickety lift. _

_Finally, after another heart-stopping descent on the other side, she had hitched a ride with a family of merchants heading further east. _

_All along the way, she had asked everyone, from marine doctors to cabin boys, the remedy to a Komodo Jellyfish bite. Nobody knew. Apparently, the injury was so rare these days that no-one worried about it anymore._

_Three weeks had passed and time was running out; only the constant communication between herself and Drum Kingdom via the Den Den Mushi she carried informed her that Dalton was still alive. His condition was deteriorating each day; it was only the size of the jellyfish, the shallow bite, and Dalton's sheer force of will keeping him from departing this world. Nevertheless, it was certain he had only days, if not hours, left._

_Kureha had nearly committed mass homicide when the head merchant announced that they were going to stop off at a certain sea-going restaurant for breakfast one day. The only reason she wasn't wading in an ankle-high sea of blood right now was because she had no other method of transportation and she realised it well. _

_It was overcast when the small ship had pulled up next to the restaurant—a ridiculous fish-shaped monstrosity in Kureha's opinion—and rain dripped steadily from the sky like a downpour of tears._

The Baratie.

_Kureha shook her head sadly at the name, and she entered the restaurant, requesting a table as far away from the merchants as possible, before ordering the most expensive bottle of plum sake with the highest alcohol content she could afford._

End Flashback

Killing time, Kureha looked around the restaurant, taking in fellow customers, tasteful decor and...

_Hello...what's this?_

Kureha vacated her seat, bringing her half-empty bottle of plum sake with her, and approached the wanted poster tacked to the wall.

Though it really was terribly drawn, the main features were still there, and there was no mistaking the fact that it was the very same boy whose spine she'd fixed before her beloved son—student—left with him and the rubber captain to become a pirate.

_Now what might that be doing in a swank joint like this?_

She flagged down a nearby waiter—a tall gangly lad with dark hair—and beckoned him over to stand beside her. He did so, eyeing her plum sake bottle somewhat dubiously.

"The secret of my youth?" Kureha asked as she noticed his gaze. The boy jumped.

"Er...I didn't ask that ma'am."

"Hmph. Boy, what's your name?"

"Reed, ma'am."

"Reed what?"

"Bracket...Bracket Reed."

"Right then Bracket Reed, you been here long sonny?"

"About four months, ma'am."

"Don't call me ma'am; my mother always insisted we call her ma'am."

"My apologies...Baa-san..." Kureha hit him round the back of the head.

'Cheeky brat...call me doctorine."

"Hai...doctorine," Reed whimpered, nursing a large goose egg bump.

"Now tell me...this poster. Why is it here?" Reed brightened.

"You mean you don't know? This is where Blackleg Sanji was raised...his foster father is the owner of this restaurant: Owner Zeff-sama." Kureha looked thoughtful, and took a contemplative swig of her plum sake.

"Owner Zeff, eh?" she echoed, still thinking.

Then she made up her mind. If she was stuck here anyway, while the merchant pigs ate their fine-tasting swill, she might as well take out a few of her frustrations.

"I'd like to meet him, this...Owner Zeff," Kureha told Reed as she returned to her table. Reed followed her looking suspicious.

"Are you a marine?" Kureha hit him again.

"Me? A harmless old woman, a marine? The nerve of you boy!"

Reed sweat-dropped.

"Harmless....?"

"Che, boy, are you thick in the head? Tell Owner Zeff I'd like to meet him; tell him it's to compliment his plum sake or something of the sort." Kureha finished the bottle off in a few more gulps as Reed hurried off.

"Owner Zeff-sama!"

A few cooks turned to look at Reed as he shouted across the kitchen, and then ignored him as they had more important business to attend to.

"Whaddaya want brat?" Zeff called back from the gutting station as he wiped sweat from his forehead with his sleeve.

"There's a client here to see you. Wants to compliment you on your plum sake selection or something." Zeff didn't even deign to look up.

"Send 'em my regards."

"Zeff-san, I really don't think this one's gonna take that very well."

Zeff sighed and made his way over, though not before washing his hands clean of fish innards. As he got closer to the waiter, he saw the two still vivid goose eggs.

"What happened to you?"

"Ah...the client hit me?"

"What did you do?"

"Nothing whatsoever."

"Which table?"

"Table five."

"Bastard, I'll teach _him_ to mess with my staff." Reed's face went pale.

"Ah Zeff-sama, she's..." But Zeff was already on his way across the dining room. Reaching table five, he was about to send a wicked kick into the face of the customer when he froze.

Said customer was, in fact, not an arrogant trout-faced man as he'd expected, but rather a very fine-looking older woman.

She looked up at his peg-leg—poised at about waist height—and raised a razor-thin eyebrow.

Zeff made a strangled sort of noise and lowered his leg.

"The secret of my youth?" the woman asked. Zeff shook his head, quickly recovering, and offered a suave grin.

"More like the secret of your beauty, my dove. Now please, would you excuse me for one moment? I'll be back shortly."

The woman nodded and he all but flew back to the kitchen. Upon entering, he homed in on Reed like a heat-seeking missile and sent him straight to the floor with an exceedingly painful kick. Everyone in the kitchen turned to watch.

"Reed, you shitty little bastard! Why didn't you tell me she was a woman!?"

Reed squawked in indignation as he picked himself off the floor, tears of pain streaming down his cheeks, and his third goose egg in as many minutes seeming to smoke.

"I tried..."

Zeff kicked him to the floor again.

"Try harder!"

Reed leapt up again with a snarl.

"What's the difference whether she's a woman or not?"

"Baka!" Zeff roared, knocking Reed into a conveniently placed chair. "It makes all the difference! I nearly kicked a beautiful woman into oblivion and all because you can't take a couple goose eggs!"

The entire collective staff sweat-dropped.

"Ah, so that's it," muttered Carne sagely.

"You're the one that barged off like a bull in a china shop! I had nothing to do with it!" retorted Reed angrily.

"Che, whatever," said Zeff, crossing his arms, "Now clean up this hole you made in the floor with your head and get back to work."

"_You _made this hole, geezer!" Reed fairly screeched. His complaint fell on deaf ears though as Zeff had already vanished from the kitchen for the second time, a bottle of fine plum sake in his hand.

Reed exhaled noisily, muttering under his breath.

Then the entire staff swarmed the shut doors, each one of them trying to peer out of the tiny set of porthole windows at their boss and the woman he was currently enamoured with.

Reed was, unfortunately, trampled.

"Bastards! Get off me!"

"Shhh, we're trying to listen."

"Asshole, like you're gonna hear anything from this far away."

"Hey, I can dream alright."

"I can't see her properly. Y'think she's a looker?"

"Knowing Owner, probably."

"Yeah, you should have seen the girls he had back in the day, when Sanji was only a foul-mouthed little sprite."

"Phew, were they ever tasty-looking—young and energetic too. No wonder Owner always came down in the morning looking..."

"Too much information," Reed choked from the floor. A few snickers followed this.

"Virgin."

Without warning the doors burst open again, almost sending everyone crashing to the floor, and Zeff appeared, face red, temples throbbing, and eyes gleaming with the promise of a very messy death.

"Back. To. Work."

Everyone obeyed, even Reed—though he suspected he probably had at least three broken bones somewhere.

And Zeff returned to his sharp-tongued goddess with the belly button ring.

"You know," she said as she swirled the golden liquid around the glass Zeff had taken the liberty of filling for her, "If I were more naive, I'd suspect that your act of suddenly disappearing on me coupled with that obscenely large hat of yours is your method of compensating for something."

"Mon cherie, as if a beauty like you could ever be naive." Zeff assured, blatantly ignoring the jab. Kureha glanced at him over the rim of her glass.

"You calling me a slut?"

"Cultured."

"Hmm, I can live with that."

"So, mon cherie..."

"Call me doctorine."

"...doctorine then, you like the plum sake?"

"Indeed, your selection is quite impressive..."

"Ah, you flatter me, doctorine."

"...shame the same can't be said for your parenting skills."

"...I beg your pardon?"

Kureha smirked, and stuck out a single pinkie in the direction of the wanted poster, her sharp eyes never leaving the flustered head chef.

_Well, blood related or no; the apple doesn't fall far from the tree. He's not a bad-looking stick this one._

"I had the pleasure of being able to treat your son...foster son...ward...whatever."

"Treat him...?"

"Broken spine. Boy was up and about almost five minutes later though, even when I _expressively_ told him to stay put."

"Che, stupid eggplant. What the hell was he doing?"

"His friend, the rubber captain, said they'd been caught in an avalanche while trying to get their navigator to see me for treatment—nasty case that was; she'd have been dead in two days—and the boy hit a tree stump on the way down."

"Which one's the navigator?"

"Red-headed girl."

"Oh yeah, I remember Sanji fawning over her when they were here." He snorted. "Why he oohs and aahs over the girls is a mystery to me when he obviously has it for blokes...especially that swordsman."

"The green-haired man?"

"That's the one. You saw him?'

"Not his face; he was too preoccupied bonking your Sanji when he was strapped down on the operating table."

Zeff choked on a mouthful of plum sake. Kureha cackled in delight and offered him a napkin. Zeff accepted it gratefully.

"Like my eggplant would be content being anyone's bitch; I taught him that much..."

"Well, if it's any consolation, the protests before the moaning started were quite vehement. And there were mentions of it being "different" so I doubt it's a regular occurrence...your Sanji being on bottom that is."

"Thank Christ for that, I didn't raise no sissy boy."

Kureha cackled again and finished her glass of plum sake as she mentioned her own foster son, Chopper. What followed was the first of many embarrassing stories, concerning their sons of course, swapped between the two.

-----X3-----

In the middle of a hot, sweaty romp in the galley Sanji started sneezing violently.

"Damn cook, what the hell are you doing?" the swordsman growled from between the blonde's legs.

"Shut up...fuck...why'd you stop that mouth of yours?"

"You're sneezing. It's hardly an erotic noise."

"You bloody asshole, I swear I'm gonna—ooh... oh shit! Damn! Yes! Do that again!"

Zoro just smirked, oblivious to the fact that not three rooms away, the sniper had been woken by a sneezing reindeer.

-----X3-----

Kureha had almost entirely forgotten about the tragedy waiting back in Drum Kingdom...until the basket beside her feet holding the Den Den Mushi started to ring.

Cutting her sentence abruptly in half, Kureha lunged for the basket and, after fumbling briefly with the receiver, spoke into it, hanging half off her chair.

"Yes, yes. This is Kureha." The reply was so garbled with tears and hysteria the doctor had difficulty making sense of it.

"D...d...doctorine!"

"Aiyla? Is that you girl? What is it? What's wrong?"

"It's Dalton-san! He's n...not waking up!"

"What?!" Kureha leapt to her feet—a difficult feat while hanging half off a dining chair. A few people glanced at her curiously.

"What do you mean he's not waking up? Speak child!"

With some trouble, Kureha turned away from Zeff's concerned gaze, picked up the Den Den Mushi, also with some trouble, and moved to an empty table far from the other customers. Even then, across the room, Kureha could still feel the head chef's eyes burning into her shoulder blades.

"W...we...well, he's b...breathing b...but his fever's the w...w...worst it's ever b...been and when we t...try to wake h...him to give him some w...w...water or food, he j...just moans and s...stays asleep."

"Is there a doctor on hand, girl?" Kureha said, uncharacteristically gentle. She received her answer when a gruff male voice replaced the shrill girlish one.

"Dr. Kureha, this is it. Aiyla here, Gumpin, his mother, and I, we've taken care of Dalton-sama to the extent of our abilities. Either we get him the cure today or he's done for, and even then it might be too..."

"Yes, yes I know that you stupid man, but nobody knows how to treat damn Komodo Jellyfish bites, even over here! I've asked everyone; doctors, marine and local, housewives, cabin boys, sailors, veterinarians! Nobody knows!" A few more customers in the closest proximity abandoned their dinners to watch her but Kureha ignored them.

"Nobody? Not one?" Kureha didn't fail to detect the desperation in his tone. She also sensed Zeff trying to get her attention for some reason but she ignored him too.

"No. Not one."

There was silence.

"Then what do you suggest doctor?" Kureha swallowed.

_I am _not _going to cry, damn it._

"Just...just make him comfortable and..."

Then the receiver was snatched from her hand. She whipped round and was about to give the thief a right good wallop when she heard Zeff speak to the doctor back in Drum Kingdom.

"What do I suggest? I'll tell you what I suggest. You need to make the Four Thieves Vinegar remedy, as quickly as you can. Tell me, do you have garlic, vinegar and rosemary?

"I...well, yes...wait, where's Kureha...who is this?"

"Never mind who I am, I know what I'm doing damn it. Boil the garlic and rosemary in the vinegar for about an hour then strain it. When it cools, soak some bandages in it and apply it to his wound. Make him drink whatever's left then make some more. Look, if his skin hasn't gone purple yet there's still a chance..."

"What if he's vaguely lavender?"

"THEN PISS DOWN HIS THROAT YOU MORON, THE URINE WILL COUNTERACT THE INFECTION LONG ENOUGH FOR YOU TO MAKE THE ACTUAL REMEDY!"

At this point everyone in the restaurant had turned their attention to the head chef and his mystery woman with the Den Den Mushi.

Kureha glared at them with shadowed eyes.

"What're you looking at? Go eat, you brats!"

Sensing it would be a bad idea to argue, the assembled diners quickly turned back to their food.

In the kitchen, the entire staff was pressed against the double doors again.

"The hell's going on?"

"Shut up! If you're quiet we'll hear what's going on."

Back on the Den Den Mushi, sounds of a zipper being yanked down, and a long stream of urine being let out into a cup were heard.

"Gently dear, we don't want the cup over flowing."

"Ma, give over, when it's gotta come out: it's gotta come out. I do know how to take a piss you know?"

"Language dear, there's a young lady present."

"JUST HURRY UP WILL YOU!" Zeff howled, prompting a few muffled curses and some slightly swifter action.

Moments later, heard a triumphant shout echoing through the Den Den Mushi.

"He's not turning purple anymore! The colour's even receding a bit..."

"Good, now make the damn remedy already!"

"Already done it," announced the doctor, "We're just waiting for an hour pass."

"Excellent. I'll hand you back to...doctorine?"

Kureha took the proffered phone with a grateful nod.

"Right, you heard the man. Do as he said. Call me again if there are any more developments." The doctor let out a preoccupied noise of assent—Kureha assumed he was busy with monitoring Dalton—and hung up.

"So..." Kureha turned her attention to Zeff who was watching her intently.

"Yes?"

"I'm thinking you should tell me how the hell you knew how to cure Komodo Jellyfish bites when nobody else did."

The old pirate looked slightly bashful.

"I'm a chef, doctorine. I've had to cook the little bastards before—pardon my language. If I didn't know how to purify and heal up the wounds they give, I'd have died about a hundred times over."

He gestured towards the kitchen—Kureha was sure she saw about a dozen heads peering through the window disappear from sight as he did so—and continued.

"I teach all my chefs the procedure. There's not a man in my kitchen who doesn't know. Had you mentioned earlier, I most certainly would have told you."

"Well, in any case, your remedy seems to have done the trick...for now."

Zeff nodded.

"For now," he agreed. Then he thought about something.

"Another drink, doctorine? You look like you need it."

"You saying I look awful?"

"Stressed."

"Hmm. I can live with that."

"So doctorine..."

"I've changed my mind. Call me Kureha."

Zeff positively beamed.

"Very well then, Kureha," he savoured the three syllables, "...about that drink?"

"Oh go on then, it'd be rude not to."

-----X3-----

While the merchants had left the restaurant a good while ago, Zeff remained with Kureha all through the next few hours...despite the fact she was moody, downed three more bottles of plum sake—a fact that truly awed Zeff—and nibbled hamster-like on a single bread stick.

Though the conversation between them was cordial, it was nothing like the unrestrained, free-for-all gab-fest they'd been having earlier. To her utter chagrin, Kureha found herself missing it immensely.

_Stop moping like a teenager; you're far too old for that now. You didn't do it with Hiriluk, and you've no need to do it with this one...Zeff._

Kureha only realised she'd been staring at the chef when he caught her eye and gave her a shockingly debonair grin.

The doctor was spared justifying her flushed cheeks and fluttery stomach to herself when the Den Den Mushi rang for a second time. She pulled it to herself gratefully and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

"HE'S ALIVE!!!" Kureha promptly held the phone away from her ear as shouts delirious with euphoria erupted from all the way back in Drum Kingdom.

"Well, I already knew that, baka! Is he better though?"

"He is, he is! His fever broke about five minutes ago, and already his wound is looking much better!"

Kureha scoffed, once again hiding her true emotions behind scorn.

"Well, didn't I tell you he wasn't going to die? Didn't I?"

"You did indeed Dr. Kureha. Thank you...thank..."

"Che, moron, it's not me you have to thank." She held out the receiver to Zeff who waved it away.

"It's nothing. Don't worry about it. At least you know for next time..."

"He says you're welcome," Kureha interrupted. "Now tell me his exact condition."

Zeff looked on in total bewilderment as more medical jargon floated across the Den Den Mushi connection. Kureha was satisfied by what she was told though, and all the tension he'd previously seen in her delightfully youthful frame seemed to drain away. That pleased Zeff to no end...

"So you'll be coming back soon, Doctorine?"

...while _that_ had a slightly less pleasing effect. Kureha noted the chef's subtle disappointment with some amusement.

_Che, why not? My ride left hours ago...besides, I haven't had a vacation in...well, ever._

"Baka? Are you serious? I've just travelled halfway round the world and I'm tired. I think I'll take a bit of time off."

Kureha could practically hear the sweat drop breaking out on the doctor's brow.

"To my knowledge it's not that far..."

"Also, I'm going to take the time to research more medical enigmas. What kind of seasoned doctor has a book without a remedy in it?"

"Ah...well, I suppose that's true..."

"Yes it is. Call me tomorrow afternoon with an update. Tell Aiyla I said goodbye."

"Uh...yes Doctorine. Goodby..."

Kureha hung up and noticed that Zeff was positively glowing.

"What's with you, cookie boy?" She took a swig from her abandoned sake, missing the brief flush across Zeff's cheeks.

"Well, I'm glad your patient's well again, Kureha."

"What, you ain't glad I'm staying?"

"On the contrary, my dove...however, it has escaped my knowledge that you haven't eaten all day. Are you hungry?"

"I basically just spent all I had on sake. I've no money left."

"Che, don't worry about it. Dinner's on me...the sake too."

"It's a while still until dinner."

"Then I will bring you sustenance until the hour arrives when you deem it time to sup."

"You're quite eager aren't you?"

"It isn't often I get such a stunning young woman in my restaurant."

Kureha cackled. She knew he was deliberately dousing her with compliments but she found herself enjoying them nevertheless.

"You lecherous old man. How could you corrupt an innocent flower like me?"

"My heart aches with shame, my lovely." Zeff teased. Then he stood.

"Though it torments me to leave you, I have left my work and my staff unattended for too long..."

He glanced briefly at kitchen—again Kureha swore she had to be imagining the countless heads that ducked out of sight at Zeff's attention.

"Yes man, go. It won't do for you to abandon your job."

"Ah, you are so understanding, Kureha. Please, feel free to order whatever you like from the menu and I'll see to it that it's nothing less than you desire."

Kureha was amused.

"Lofty standards, Zeff, I must say."

"I promise you, they shall be met without fail." Zeff vowed. "I shall personally prepare and bring to you your dinner."

He paused; his next words, though slightly hesitant, betrayed no emotion but polite interest.

"The weeknights are not so busy this time of year, I shall have some free time then...we might...talk some more...should you so wish?"

Kureha watched him, eyes narrowed almost flirtatiously as she ran a pointed tongue over her thin lips.

"I'd like that," she told him...and meant it.

When the chef left to do his neglected work, Kureha sat back contently in her chair. Then she smirked mischievously.

_I think I'll bug that young waiter again._

-----X3-----

"So Kureha, when exactly did you become a doctor?"

Three hours later, at eight pm on the dot, found the doctor and the chef seated in the now empty dining room, eating and enjoying further conversation. The ambience was not quite romantic, not in the sense that there was candlelight and soft music, but there was a definite aura of _amour_ hovering around the place.

Kureha contemplated the question as she speared a morsel of her cooked-to-perfection filet mignon. Zeff noted that while she was a dainty eater—that is, she ate with decorum—she wasn't picky and she left not a drop of broth or a leaf of lettuce from the previous soup and salad courses. The chef was impressed.

"Well, I'd have to say my mother was a large part of it. She was a doctor herself...a witch too."

Zeff coughed awkwardly.

"Ah, she couldn't have been all bad to produce such an angel as you..."

"Oh no, I meant it literally. She had a broom and everything...I wonder what happened to that old thing anyway?"

Kureha trailed off for a moment, frowning thoughtfully.

-----X3-----

Atop a semi-large mountain on a very mountainous island on the Grandline, not so many miles away from where a certain lion-headed ship sailed, a teenage girl with grey-streaked brown hair and a bright red sweater launched herself from the top of a very tall building.

An explosion briefly lit up the night sky behind her, as the broom between her legs hummed with energy and glided away into the darkness split seconds before they both slammed into the ground.

"Shit, you're getting too old for this," the girl told the broom reproachfully, as she suddenly conjured a softly glowing ball of light in her palm.

The broom just grumbled.

-----X3-----

Kureha shook her head.

"Probably mouldering in one of my nieces' closets...now where was I? Ah yes, my mother taught me everything I know about being a doctor, and what she didn't teach me, my aunts did. They were bigger witches than she was."

Zeff chuckled in amusement as she took a bite of her steak and suppressed another small moan. Really it was just fantastic, but like she'd let Zeff think she was some kind of strumpet, moaning like a paid whore with each mouthful she took.

The thought made her cringe internally and she took a very swift gulp from her umpteenth glass of plum sake to hide the tinge of pink that stained her cheeks.

"So how about you? When did you realise your calling as a first-class chef?"

Zeff was pleased with the compliment but he had the grace to look sheepish.

"Ah well, you see, I wasn't always just a chef...I started out as a pirate..."

"Red-Leg Zeff, am I correct?"

"We met before?" The old pirate was surprised.

"One of the only men to survive the Grandline. You're not exactly unknown, sweetie."

"Ah...of course."

"I assume you quit piracy when you lost your leg then? Shame that."

Zeff looked down at the appendage and smiled.

_Ooooh, damn, he looks good when he does that._

_Shut up! What are you, some horny schoolgirl?!_

Another few quick swallows of alcohol wasn't quite enough to quell the voices, but that's not to say Kureha didn't try. Luckily, Zeff was oblivious to her mental perversion.

"Yes, I did have to stop being a pirate because of this...after all, I as a chef first and foremost; I will not damage my hands in battle."

"Your boy is of the same mentality? I noticed he doled out some rather impressive kicks."

"Yes. Yes he is. I'd kick him halfway across the world's oceans if he wasn't. A cook has no business fighting if he intends to ruin his most important tools of the trade doing so."

"So you taught him your art of fighting...even with one leg. Impressive, I must say."

Zeff chuckled before looking thoughtful.

"As a doctor, you too protect your hands, yes? They are just as valuable to you in your profession as mine are to me."

Kureha wasn't quite sure what to say to that.

'Well, yes, I suppose they are."

"How do you protect yourself?'

"Well, I dole out the occasional punch, but mostly I just throw things. My aim's damn good, I'll have you know."

Zeff frowned as he reached out and tenderly enveloped one of Kureha's hands between his own.

"It's sad to think that you had to abuse such precious treasures for the purpose of dealing with bastards like that."

Kureha forgot to mention that said one of said bastards included Zeff's own foster son when the chef brought her fingers to his lips and kissed them. Using the softest of touches, he parted her digits and gave each one of them equal loving devotion. Heat sprang to her face and an unfamiliar tingling sensation throbbed between her legs.

_Oh my god..._

Both the doctor and chef started slightly when the lights inexplicably dimmed and soft, sensual music started to play. This time, Kureha couldn't tell herself she was imagining things when she saw the entirety of Zeff's staff spying on them from various, well-concealed spots around the room...especially not when one in particular batted his eyelashes at Zeff and gave him the thumbs up.

"Pattie..." Zeff growled murderously.

Kureha bit the insides of her cheeks and put a hand to her mouth to stifle her laughter. Zeff's eyes became shadowed as he emanated a deadly aura from his person. The demonic impression cleared when he looked up and gave Kureha his friendliest, most polite grin.

"Would you excuse me for a moment, Kureha?"

"By all means," the doctor chuckled.

The chef stood and headed towards the kitchen, beckoning to his staff for them to follow.

Like metaphorical cows being led to the metaphorical slaughter house, they obeyed, happily ignorant of the fact that they were in store for no small amount of pain...for now.

When Zeff departed from the kitchen and left the pile of moaning, bleeding bodies that had once been a collection of seafaring cooks on the floor, all were immensely grateful the head chef did not hear Carne's final line before he passed out cold.

"Damn...she was one hot milf."

-----X3-----

"Here you are Kureha. I do hope you'll be comfortable enough."

The small room was sparsely furnished but cosy...or rather, it would have been were it not for the pathetic mess of planking, duct tape and tarpaulin that covered a giant hole in the wall. Kureha gestured vaguely in its general direction.

"What transpired here?"

"Ah, that would have been the shitty rubber captain; fired a damn cannonball at my restaurant. Not too much damage done but it startled me out of nap, I'll tell you that for nothing," the old chef snorted.

"Now why did he do something that stupid?"

"Said it was an accident."

"I see—wait, you were having a nap? This is your room?"

"Yes. I thought you might be the most comfortable here as it is the only private room with a bed."

"Where are you sleeping?"

"Oh, I'll go join the boys in their room. It's quite spacious actually, and the hammocks aren't so bad either."

"You do realise that those are extremely bad for your back at your age, right?"

"Why m'lady, I'm hurt," Zeff teased, "Are you suggesting that my sprightly sixty three years on this ocean have made me soft?"

Kureha's mouth twitched in disquiet before she could assume her usual nonchalant, I-might-be-old-but-I-can-still-kick-your-ass expression.

_And so we come to the age thing. _

"Kureha? What's the matter? Not comfortable with the fact that I must be cradle robbing you?"

The doctor internally flinched at the flirtatious remark.

"I'm one-hundred-and-thirty-nine years old."

Without skipping a beat, Zeff replied:

"I always did like older women."

And thus, Kureha fell in love; but like the stubborn old hag was going to admit that...yet.

"Hmph!" she scoffed, "A hammock is still bad for your back. The sleeping arrangements must be changed."

"Look, Kureha, I'm giving you my bed, and that's final. There's no way I'd make a lady sleep on the floor while I rest in comfort."

Kureha rolled her eyes.

_And they say chivalry is dead, eh?_

"Look, I'm not saying I have to sleep on the floor while you take the bed. I'm taking the bed too."

"But this is the only one available..."

Then Zeff caught on.

"Miss Kureha, what exactly are you implying?"

The doctor smiled mischievously and pulled off her jacket.

"Well, if you come over here, maybe I'll give you a taste. After all, you're a first class chef, I'm sure you'd appreciate that, ne?"

Zeff felt very hot around the collar all of a sudden and found himself feeling slightly vulnerable without his enormous chef hat. All the same, the desire within him that had been slowly growing ever since meeting the enigmatic doctor, won out by miles.

Meanwhile, Kureha had an internal conflict.

_Old girl, what the hell are you doing? Sex? Really? At your age?_

_Shut up, I'm only one-hundred-and-thirty nine-years-old. This should still be a fairly enjoyable experience._

_Not if he can't even hold an erection, it won't, no._

_He's not that old, you witch._

Kureha's mind was made up for her when she felt Zeff's skilled hands stroke her sides as his arms encircled her waist.

_My old bat of a mother would be tossing and turning in her grave if she could see me now._

Warm lips brushed her clavicle.

_Good. _Kureha thought as Zeff finally eased her onto his bed.

-----X3-----

Meanwhile, many many miles away on the Grandline, Chopper sat in the dining room of the Thousand Sunny pouring over a medicine book. Sanji stood only seven feet away peeling potatoes in the sink.

All of a sudden, Chopper jerked straight up, his body rigid, making a startled "guh!" noise as he did so. A cold shiver of horror snaked down his spine, ruffling his fur and leaving goose bumps in its wake, though for the life of him, he could not say why.

Sanji looked over at him, equally surprised and concerned.

"Is something the matter, Chopper?"

The little reindeer-doctor just shrugged and went back to his book.

"No. Nothing."

-----X3-----

Why? Because Kureha's expression totally looks like that to me.

And as my good guy friend would say: EWWWWW!!! OLD PEOPLE SEEEEX!!! XD

And as I would say: Woot! Go Grandma! Cuz old people deserve to bang too! Yeah!

...shoot me please. -_-'

Phew, longest oneshot I've ever written. Ah well, at least it gets done this way.

Please, let's not think about how badly Kureha's robbing the cradle here. I'm sure she's at least twice Zeff's age. *shudder* Just think about it; she was already old enough to be a grandma when Zeff was born—nyaahh not going there, not going there!

I'd also like to add that the jellyfish and its bite were purely of my invention (like Oda-sama would think up crap like that) and the cure is based on an old remedy in France used to ward off the plague. Apparently it worked, since these four thieves used it and they never got sick when breaking into quarantined houses. Hence the name. It should be noted that urine contains ammonia which can be used as a disinfectant. Urine is safe to drink as a substitute for water, provided that it's not your own.

I know some pretty disgusting information now that I think about it. -_-'

Written for ColourPearl, who loves Baratie fics, and DandyWonderous who considered the notion of Kureha/Zeff (sorry 'bout the slash, m'dear, but I just couldn't resist).

Love it? Hate it? Please tell me. I'm such a review whore; I'd do even for flames. XD


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